


The Tragedies of A Broken Window

by lunar_idiots



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Athletic Trainer Iwaizumi Hajime, Dorks in Love, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Oikawa Tooru Being an Idiot, Pining, Pining Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunar_idiots/pseuds/lunar_idiots
Summary: Where Oikawa likes hugging teddy bears and Iwaizumi smashes windows with wardrobes; chaos ensues.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	1. The Beginning of the Soprano Screech

**Author's Note:**

> Purely fluff and cringe
> 
> Also, I have read the manga, but in this one Oikawa plays for Japan because... yeah... why not... :)

Oikawa groaned as he stumbled into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. Today had been a crappy day. 

First, the barista at his cafe had spilled burning hot coffee all over him, drenching his shirt and consequently ruining his dossier of information on the opposing team. Secondly, due to the coffee incident, he’d been half an hour late to practice, earning himself a thorough scolding from Coach Hibarida. Finally, after dinner with the team, he’d stopped at the convenience store around the corner only to find they’d been sold out of his favourite type of milk bread.

The only highlight of his day had been watching Kageyama and Hinata finally perfect their new and improved quick attack. The entire Japanese Team had been ecstatic when the ball slammed into the ground across the net, bypassing Hyakuzawa and Sakusa, Yaku and Komori a split second too late. Oikawa himself had been cheering, grinning with the thought of their improved chances in the upcoming Olympics.

Now he slipped out of his volleyball shoes, not bothering to turn on the lights as he padded down the silent hallway on light feet, the alien patterns on his socks flashing in the dark. Oikawa took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, stopping at one particular name. He smiled. Perfect. This would be a prime opportunity to rant about his horrible day.

He entered the living room, pressing down on the screen. Connecting… the call said. Oikawa flipped on the lights. 

“Ase to chi to namida de hikaru tsubasa de ima zenbu zenbu oki satte~~” The familiar ringtone echoed throughout the apartment just as Oikawa looked up. His gaze locked onto a spiky head of hair and stocky, muscular arms draped across his couch cushions.  
“Shit!” he yelped, “Gah! Jeez, Iwa-chan, don’t scare me like that! You know I have a weak heart!”

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growled from his place on the couch, swiping a finger across his own phone screen to decline the call. He dug a hand into the bag next to him, grabbing a handful of corn chips and dumping them into his mouth. "That’s a lie and we both know it.”

Oikawa cleared his throat nervously. “So, umm, what are you doing here? It’s not Thursday by any chance, is it?” 

_Please don’t let it be Thursday._ He prayed internally, despite the fact he knew it was only Tuesday. Thursdays were movie nights with Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa. The last time he’d missed movie night, Iwaizumi had showed up at Oikawa’s door, looking ready to murder him. He’d then proceeded to drag him over to Makki’s house for a horrible screening of some horror movie that had left Oikawa seeing ghosts for days.

Iwaizumi scoffed. “Nah, it’s not Thursday. Wow, don’t you even know what day it is, Shittykawa?” 

Oikawa chuckled anxiously. “So, if it’s not Thursday why are you here?” The scowl Iwaizumi leveled at him nearly sent Oikawa scrambling backwards. “I promise I’m not bullying Tobio-chan or Chibi-chan! You can ask them!” He yelped, flustered.  
Iwaizumi grunted, ducking his head to check his phone again, fidgeting with the screen although there were no notifications. Oikawa grinned when he saw Iwaizum’s cheeks flush pink, a sure sign of embarrassment. 

“I got kicked out of my apartment.”

Oikawa blinked. “You… got kicked out?” 

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said. “I was, um, practicing with the volleyball you left the last time you came over, and I guess I hit it wrong, because it slammed the wardrobe, really hard. Long story short, the wardrobe crashed through the window and fell two stories.” He coughed sheepishly. “You know Kamida-san?” 

Oikawa nodded. Kamida-san was the old lady that lived in the apartment next to Iwaizumi. She constantly doted on Iwaizumi, and Oikawa when he came over, giving them cookies and milk bread.  
Iwaizumi continued. “I think she’s finally reached the end of her patience. She showed up in the hallway screaming at me for interrupting her beauty sleep and said she wouldn’t let me back in until I learned how to control a volleyball better. Anyway, the repairman said it’s gonna take a few weeks to fix the window, then I can go back. So I’m crashing at your place for the next month or so, since you live close to Todai University and the place I’m interning at.”

“A month?” Oikawa asked, eyebrows rising.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi glanced at him, face twisting into a disgusted expression. “You still don’t get it? Jeez, for someone called a genius setter, you can be really dumb. Maybe Kageyama really is smarter than you.”  
That snapped Oikawa out of his daze. He launched himself at Iwaizumi, shrieking. The phone clattered out of Iwaizumi's hand and onto the floor, and his elbow hit the coffee table, smarting with small jolts of pain. Oikawa winced as the pain subsided, returning his attention to Iwaizumi.

“I am smart! Smarter than Tobio- chan! Way smarter!” He protested, glaring down at Iwaizumi from his position on top of his abdomen. “Say it!”

Iwaizumi only wrinkled his nose at him, sighing. “Sometimes I forget you’re already 24. You still act like your cousin. No, wait, Takeru is actually more mature than you. Now, get off me!” He shoved Oikawa backwards, sending him tumbling onto the carpeted floor. 

Oikawa glared at him. “Mean, Iwa-chan, mean!” He rolled off Iwaizumi, splaying his limbs out onto the cushions around them. Outside the window, Oikawa could see the end of a ruby red sunset, glittering points of light scattered across the rapidly darkening sky.

Oikawa let out a soft breath, turning back to his friend. He paused, surprised to see Iwaizumi staring back at him. Iwaizum’s face was shockingly calm, forehead wrinkled just a tiny bit. The slipping sun shone through the room, turning his skin a warm shade of peach, highlighting the ridges of his nose and cheeks. His hair flopped down on the left side of his face, strangely limp for someone whose daily hair routine was about six packs of gel. This close, Oikawa could see the soft forest green of Iwaizum’s eyes, the same shade as a woodland in the early mornings. The corners of Iwaizumi’s eyes crinkled faintly as his mouth crooked up into a subtle smile. 

Oikawa sniffed hurriedly, looking away as he felt the tips of his ears wash red with heat. “Um…” His voice came out as a squeak and he cursed his horrible vocal cords. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Did… did you eat yet?”

There was a moment of silence before Iwaizumi waved the now empty bag of corn chips in the air. “Yeah,” he said, voice strangely hoarse. “I stole your food. We should watch a movie.” Iwaizumi grabbed the remote and clicked the TV on. “We’re watching Godzilla, ”he said decidedly. 

Oikawa sat up straight. “Wait what?! What about that alien documentary you said we could watch next time!”

Iwaizumi scoffed. “Aliens are fake, just like you.”

“Hey-what-you- idiot!” Oikawa screeched. “I am clearly not fake!” He shoved up against Iwaizumi, digging his elbow into his side, eliciting a choked yelp from him. “Now gimme the remote! We’re watching Aliens!” 

Iwaizumi closed a hand around Oikawa’s shoulder and yanked him off easily. He glowered at Oikawa. “ **Godzilla**.” 

Oikawa sighed and leaned backwards, watching Iwaizumi flick through the movie channels in search of his favorite film. _God, I am so gay._ He thought.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“What- Iwa-chan- This is my house!!” Oikawa spluttered indignantly. “You can’t just take my bed!”

Iwaizumi smirked upwards from his place on said bed, right next to Oikawa’s giant teddy bear. “I just did.”

“No! Get offfffff,” Oikawa’s shriek tapered off into a strangled noise as Iwaizumi kicked out at him. “Fine,” he huffed, “move over.” Without waiting for Iwaizumi to reply, he settled himself on the right side, next to Iwaizumi, and planted his face flat on the pillow. “Turn off the lights,” he grumbled.

Oikawa could almost feel Iwaizumi’s shit-eating grin as the other man reached over and yanked the lamp cord, plunging the room into darkness.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

The first thing Oikawa became aware of when his eyelids slit open to bleak grayness was the feeling of warmth underneath him. The second thing was that his arms were increasingly numb, seemingly pinned around something large. Something pulsed quietly beneath his ear, thumping out a calming, stable, beat. _Wait._ His eyes suddenly snapped open, widening as blood rushed to his cheeks. Gulping, he found that sometime in the night, he’d shifted all the way to the center of the bed, and was now lying halfway on top of Iwaizumi, head pillowed on his chest and legs tangled together. 

_Thud. Thud. Thud._ Iwaizumi’s heartbeat echoed softly throughout Oikawa’s brain, intertwining with the solid beats of his own, and he found himself slowly relaxing into the other man’s body. He glared through the early morning gray, squinting until he could make out the shining neon digital numbers on the clock across the room. 

4:43 am, the display said. Oikawa let his eyes slide shut again. He didn’t have volleyball practice until 6 AM. For now, he tucked his head more securely under Iwaizumi’s chin and squeezed his arms tighter, relishing in the smell of pineapple shampoo in Iwaizumi’s hair, letting out a soft sigh. His mouth curled into a soft smile, enjoying the moments of peace before the world was awake.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Iwaizumi was dying. 

That was for sure. The thick, inky tendrils of smoke curled tighter around his waist and chest, pushing both air and life out of his lungs. He choked, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the black tendrils, trying in vain to loosen their hold.

 _Let me go!_ He would have screamed, if he had enough air to muster a breath. The only sound he made was a silent whimper that was lost amid the sounds of rushing wind. 

Gales of air tore through the monster’s tentacles, ripping them apart, but the thing’s arms just floated together again within the next second, each one growing a viscous face with dozens of rows of sharp teeth that threatened to tear him apart. It rose upwards, hovering over him, forcing Iwaizumi to crane his neck in order to see it. 

Its tentacles pressed tighter, and a retching noise erupted from his mouth as his ribs snapped, jagged bones crushed against his inside. The monster loomed closer, giant maw wide open, ready to devour him whole…

Iwaizumi snapped awake, jolting into a sitting position, heaving for air. The tentacles, which he now saw were pale, muscular, arms, retracted with almost inhuman speed from around his waist, and another body fell away from his with a muffled cry. Oikawa stared up at him, eyes wide and shocked, face bushing as red as a tomato, back planted into the tangled sheets.

“Were you hugging me?” Iwaizumi asked dumbly, mind still addled with sleep fog. 

“No!” Oikawa squeaked, gesturing wildly to the stuffed animal next to him. “No! Of course not! I- uh- i thought you were my teddy bear!” His face turned even redder, like it was trying to see how crimson a person could get before they exploded. 

“You were hugging me,” Iwaizumi repeated. “Oh.” He brought his hand up, ghosting it gently across his chest where the warmth was quickly fading. A strange feeling stirred in his stomach.

Oikawa yelped. He tossed a pillow at Iwaizumi, fleeing out the bedroom door. The strange feeling vanished immediately, and Iwaizumi roared angrily as the soft fabric made contact with his face. “Oikawa!” he yelled. “Get back here!” 

“Sorry!” came the soprano screech. “I have volleyball practice!”

The apartment door slammed shut. Iwaizumi’s eyes caught on the unopened closet. “Jeez, Oikawa,” he said aloud. The idiot went out in his _alien_ pajamas. Iwaizumi sighed, resolutely ignored the tiny smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.


	2. HehahHAhe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 :)

Oikawa watched the ball distantly, following its arc through the air intently. The blue and yellow leather spun towards his hands, and he tossed it upwards, setting it directly into Bokuto’s swing. The sound of the ball slamming into the floor was lost amid the ruckus of morning practice. 

“Nice toss, Oikawa!” Bokuto yelled at him, waving his arms around like an over excited chicken. 

Oikawa nodded slightly, replying with a simple, “Nice kill.”

He’d borrowed one of Bokuto’s uniforms for practice, since he’d fled his apartment in nothing but his alien underwear.

People were starting to trickle in for practice. The doors slammed open. Sakusa and Atsumu entered, Sakusa trying in vain to push Atsumu away from him. They were followed by Kageyama and Hinata, both of whom looking like they had rolled out of bed five minutes earlier. Even halfway across the gym, he could hear Kageyama and Hinata arguing near the gym doors. The orange haired man was obviously still half asleep, arms loose around Kageyama’s waist, a large yawn escaping his mouth. As he watched, Hibarida-sensei called out for Kageyama. The setter gingerly detached Hinata’s arms from him, groaning when Hinata only gripped him tighter. 

“I have to go,” he said. “Hibarida-sensei is calling me.”

Hinata grumbled, obviously not hearing a word Kageyama said. “It’s too early to be awake.”

“It’s only 6 AM, dumbass. Now stop hugging me!” This was punctuated with an angry snort as Kageyama managed to pry Hinata’s fingers apart.

Kageyama sounded exactly like what Iwaizumi would sound like if he told someone to stop hugging him. Oikawa gulped, aware that his face was flushing a very unattractive shade of red. Did Iwaizumi say that to him this morning? No, right? Unless he said it after Oikawa left so he wouldn’t hear…

“Hey,” Sakusa’s voice snapped Oikawa out of his worrying and he took a step back. Sakusa was staring at him intently, dark eyes squinted over his mask. He held out a ball towards Oikawa. “Set. We’re doing drills.”

“Uh- oh-right,” Oikawa stammered. Both of them ignored Atsumu’s indignant “Omi-kun! I can set for you better than that prick can!” and tensed, ready.  
Sakusa threw the ball up and started to run. Oikawa held his hands up above his head, blinking away the harsh glare of the stadium lights. He watched the ball spin in the air, heading directly towards his palms. 

Iwazuimi’s face suddenly flashed in his mind, and Oikawa saw a different time when it was Iwaizumi spiking and he fumbled the ball, dropping it to the ground. Sakusa halted, his own momentum nearly carrying him straight into the net. He caught his balance, only a slight eye roll showing his annoyance. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, Oikawa,” Miya strolled up next to Sakusa, resting a casual elbow on his shoulder. “What’s up? First you steal my boyfriend, then you miss a set?”

Oikawa grimaced at him. “I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend. Anyway, sorry about the set. I got distracted. Let’s try it again.”

“Nuh-uh,” Miya said, grinning. Something bright was shining behind his eyes. Oikawa had no doubt that Atsumu wouldn’t let up until he found out what was up. Sure enough, Atsumu continued. “What’s distracting you, oh Great King?” He gave an exaggerated bow, smirking up at Oikawa.

Sakusa shoved Atsumu’s elbow off his shoulder, muttering something about germs under his breath. He too, though, was looking at Oikawa curiously. 

“HehahHAhe,” Oikawa laughed, the sound fake even to his own ears. “Nothing’s going on guys. Can we please get back to practice now?”

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Sakusa said. “Just to let you know, you’re a truly terrible liar.” 

“Thanks a lot,” Oikawa huffed. “What’s your purpose in life, anyway? To torment poor, helpless, souls like me?”

Atsumu beamed. “You know it.”

“What’s this?” Bokuto appeared on Oikawa’s left, his grin stretching across his face. “What’s this I hear about tormenting Oikawa?”

“The usual,” Sakusa said casually. “Just interrogating Oikawa here about his life.”

“Ooooo sounds fun!” Bokuto said, clearly excited. “Can I join, too?”

“Nooooo,” Oikawa groaned at the same time Atsumu said “Sure, why not?”

Oikawa desperately wished for something, preferably concrete, that he could slam his head into. Maybe someone could donate a wall. Oh, wait, but then the poor janitors would have to pick up his scattered brains off the floor. Although, if he didn’t have any brains, he wouldn’t need to think about Iwaizumi anymore. Maybe that would actually work.

“Are you all right?” A gruff voice broke him out of his self-destructive thoughts. He looked up, then immediately wished he hadn’t. Ushijima stared down at him. 

“Oh great!” he said. “So we’re all gonna get involved now? What is it, Bully Oikawa Day?” 

“Are you so important to Japan that we named a national holiday after you?” Ushijima asked, completely confused. 

Oikawa stared at him, incredulous. “No,” he shrieked, voice bordering on hysterical. “It’s not even a real day!” 

“Oh,” Ushijima said. Next to him, Atsumu facepalmed. 

“I guess you’re not very important then,” Sakusa said snidely. 

“I do not understand,” Ushijima admitted. “If he is not important, then why are we all gathered around him?”

“To gossip,” Atsumu said. “Obviously.”

“I see,” Ushijima concluded. “Let us continue then, before Hibarida-sensei scolds us all.” 

“Why do you think Oikawa’s distracted? He never is.” Atsumu mused, stroking his chin like he had an imaginary beard. 

“Maybe he is reminiscing on our high school days,” Ushijima said. His eyes lit up. Oh no. Oikawa’s brain supplied. “Maybe he has come to the conclusion that he should have gone to Shiratorizwa.” 

Oikawa sighed, mentally holding himself back from slapping Ushijima across the face. “For the last time, I was perfectly happy at Seijoh! We were a good team!”  
“Yet you never made it to Nationals,” Atsumu singsonged, mouth screwed up in a self satisfied smirk. 

Oikawa scowled, proof that he’d matured since his last year in highschool. Back then, a remark like that would have warranted instant death delivered by one very special setter, Oikawa himself. Now, the only thing Atsumu received was a swift kick to his shins.

“We’re going off topic,” Bokuto interjected over Atsumu’s howl of pain. “Remember, we were trying to figure out what’s going on with Oikawa?”

“Right, right,” Atsumu said hastily. Oikawa eyed the other side of the gym. Their teammates were beginning warmups. Kageyama and Hinata were walking away from where they had just finished talking with Hibarida-sensei. Practice would start soon. 

Kageyama was just passing by when Sakusa said, a bit too loud, “Maybe he’s in a lover’s dilemma. Who’re you dating these days, Oikawa?”

Without missing a beat or looking up from the notes in his hand, Kageyama said, “Oikawa-san would love to date Iwaizumi-san. They’ve been all over each other since junior high.”

Oikawa choked on his own spit. He sputtered, eyes wide. “What??” He shrieked. “Tobio-chan, watch your mouth!”

Atsumu was grinning like he’d just gotten the best gift in his entire life. “Iwaizumi, huh? I could see that working.”

Hinata glanced up, apparently also interested in the hot mess that was Oikawa’s life. “I thought you were already dating him?” 

Oikawa gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, since you are all so interested, I’ll share some details with you. But you can’t tell anyone, got it?”

Bokuto nodded enthusiastically, though there was no doubt he would immediately go running off to Akaashi in order to spread the news of Oikawa’s woes.  
Oikawa coughed, clearing his throat. “I may-” he started. “I may have had a teeny tiny crush on Iwa-chan for a while now.”

Hinata shrieked, actually shrieked, grabbing onto Kageyama’s shirt with one hand and gesturing wildly at Oikawa with the other. “We have to help set them up, Kageyama! We have to!”

Kageyama snorted indignantly, “Why? They can sort it out themselves.”

“Indeed,” Ushijima said, “I believe Oikawa is worthy enough to figure out this problem himself.”

Atsumu sighed dramatically. “You all are so boring! We have a perfect chance to meddle here! Why waste it?”

“Um-” Oikawa interrupted. “To be honest, I would like some advice. Especially since you,” he said, nodding at Atsumu, “and Sakusa are a couple.” 

He ventured awkwardly, turning to Hinata and Kageyama. “I would also like to know how you two confessed to each other.”

“Especially since both of you seem too dumb and immersed in volleyball to even realize your feelings,” Sakusa added. 

Oikawa found himself leaning in, curious to find out how the two dumbasses had actually ended up together.

Kageyama cut in smoothly over Hinata’s affronted screeching. “Hinata confessed to me right before our graduation. It would have been fine, except we were babysitting his sister. Natsu grabbed his ankle and he tripped. We ended up going to the hospital for stitches.”

Oikawa found that he was hanging off every word that left Kageyama’s mouth. “That’s it?” he asked, doubtful. “That simple?”

Kageyama nodded. “That simple.”

“Well, what did you do after?” Bokuto said.

Hinata cut in. “He told me he liked me too, and then called me a dumbass for getting hurt! We went out for our first date the next day.”  
“Long distance for a while too, hmm, when Hinata was in Brazil,” Atsumu contemplated. “That must have sucked.”

Kageyama shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “It wasn’t that bad. We called every week.”

“So sweet,” Sakusa crooned sarcastically. “Now, Oikawa, how are you planning to tell Iwaizumi you like him?”

“What?” Oikawa asked, suddenly nervous. “What do you mean, tell him?”

“You have to tell him,” Bokuto said, eyes wide. “You didn’t know that? How else would Iwaizumi know you like him?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said. “Like how Hinata told Kageyama.”

“Or how I confessed to Sakusa,” Atsumu said. “And look how well that turned out! 5 years of dating!” 

“And yet,” Sakusa grumbled, “You still smell bad. I have failed miserably in cleansing you of all your Atsumu-ness.”

Atsumu waved a hand in Sakusa’s face. “Yeah, yeah, Omi-kun. You still got time.”

“You have to tell him, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama implored. 

“But what if he doesn't like me back!” Oikawa said. The fears that his feelings would be unreturned finally pushed through the fragile barrier in his chest. 

There was a moment of silence, and then Bokuto broke out laughing. Sakusa’s eyes widened in amusement. 

“I have to admit, I’ve never noticed your crush on Iwaizumi. But I think everyone here has seen Iwaizumi’s huge crush on you. It’s not subtle at all.”

That was when Oikawa’s brain promptly broke. The words Iwaizumi’s huge crush on you reverberated through his mind, repeating and looping over and over again.

“Oikawa?” he heard Bokuto ask distantly. “Hey guys, I think we broke Oikawa.”

“Probably daydreaming about his increased chances with love,” Atsumu said, laughing. “Really, how could he not have noticed?”

 _Did I really not notice_? Oikawa thought, reliving past moments and memories that had helped him realize just how much of a disaster gay he was.

_Seeing him for the first time, and the first thought was “pretty”.  
Getting punched by him and looking up into his green eyes.  
Admiring the muscles in his back during their highschool years.  
Feeling unmeasurable joy when he’d realized that they’d both chosen the same university.  
That night on the balcony, where they just sat and talked.  
Helping Iwa-chan choose his major. _

_And this morning, waking up to find Iwa-chan staring at him. Realizing just how gorgeous he was.  
Oh my god. _

A hand passed in front of his face and he blinked, vision blurry. “Is he about to cry? Kageyama wondered, staring dead at Oikawa. 

“No,” Oikawa said, wiping angrily at his eyes. “I’m not crying!” 

“So,” Sakusa said. “Are you going to tell him now?”

“How?” Oikawa nearly wailed. “I don’t know how to tell him!” 

“Just do it,” Hinata advised. “It’s best not to think about it.”

 _Should it be fancy?_ Oikawa wondered. _Casual? Classy?_

“Practice is about to start soon,” Bokuto muttered. The doors swung open again with a squeak behind Oikawa, and Atsumu glanced upwards. A slow grin spread across his face.

“You have to help me!” Oikawa shrieked, clutching Kageyama’s sleeve. Kageyama nodded sullenly. “Sure, Oikawa-san. Although, I don’t think you’ll need help.”

“Of course I’ll need help! I like him! Confessing love to someone isn’t easy, you know!”

Kageyama opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes landed on something behind Oikawa and he shut it again just as quickly. Hinata tugged on his sleeve and the two of them took a few steps back. 

_Oh no._ Oikawa thought, registering the look of perfect glee that had taken over Atsumu. HIs heart sped up, pounding out a rapid rhythm at a speed that could not be good for his health. Slowly, he turned around, praying that _he_ wasn’t here.

“Confessing love to who?” Iwaizumi asked, eyebrows raised.


	3. Miya Atsumu Knows Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end! :) This one's kind of short.

Iwaizumi stood in front of him, arms folded over his chest. A strange expression crossed his face, some sort of mix between curiosity and nervousness. He was wearing a black polo and black shorts that definitely were not good for Oikawa’s fluttering heart. 

“Confessing love to who?” Iwaizumi asked, eyebrows raised.

“Uh-um, nobody!” Oikawa stuttered. “I was talking about a, um, a drama I’ve been watching!” He glanced around desperately for help. Atsumu held his hands up, mentaly conveying the hurtful message of _Sorry, you’re on your own._

“Right,” Iwaizumi said. “Somehow, I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true!” Oikawa said, flustered. “Anyway, what- what are you doing here? I thought you had an internship today?”

“I do,” Iwaizumi said slowly. “Here. Remember, I told you about it last week?” 

Oikawa opened his mouth, fishing for something to say. He came up with an assortment of squeaks that sent Atsumu into hysterics. Iwaizumi frowned at him. 

At that moment, Hibarida-sensei called out, “Gather around. Practice is starting.” Oikawa silently said a thank you to every deity that had taken pity on him, watching as Iwaizumi and his teammates started off towards the front of the gym. Atsumu turned around, wiggling his stupid eyebrows at Oikawa. He shuddered, wondering exactly how he’d get through the day when that majestic being was less than 10 feet away at all times.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Oikawa flubbed another set. The ball slipped straight through his fingers and landed with a dull thud on the ground, sending a wave of slight embarrassment through his nerves. 

Hibarida-sensei sighed and stood, shaking his head. He gestured at Kageyama, pointing towards the game. “Sub for him, Kageyama. At least until he can get his head out of the clouds.” He turned towards Oikawa sending him his best coach glare. “You hear that, Oikawa? If you can’t figure out what’s bothering you before the Olympics, you won’t be allowed on court. Kageyama and Miya will play in your place.” 

Normally, being replaced by Kageyama on the court would have beaten Oikawa’s pride into a small, tiny, ball, despite the fact he didn’t exactly resent the younger man. Today though, Oikawa’s embarrassment was overshadowed by a large, impending, emotion he refused to name. He could feel Iwaizumi’s eyes burning holes into the back of his neck. Oikawa nodded, bypassing Kageyama as he headed to the bench. 

Kageyama’s slight whisper of “You’ve got to tell him, Oikawa-san” did not go unnoticed. He sat stiffly next to Iwaizumi, trying to hide the way his limbs locked with nervousness. He squeaked quietly when Iwaizumi set a gentle hand on his lower back. 

“It’s okay,” Iwaizumi mumbled, eyes fixed straight ahead, watching as Kageyama set flawlessly to a grinning Hinata. “You can take this opportunity to analyze Kageyama. Learn how to beat him.”

Oikawa shook his head, huffing out a small breath. “We’re on the same team, Iwa-chan.”

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Iwaizumi left just before lunch, waving at Oikawa before exiting. Not even a second after the gym door shut behind him, Atsumu slid into the now vacant spot next to Oikawa, wearing his terrifying grin. Oikawa groaned. He slapped his hand over his face. “Shut up,” he mumbled.

Atsumu raised his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t say anything,” He said smugly. “Anyway, I ended up texting Osamu about your little problem.”

“Why is everyone getting involved in my life?” Oikawa wondered out loud.

“Osamu offered a box of onigiri. Says you can come pick it up. This way, even if he rejects you completely, which he won’t, you can eat. Eating always helps.”

“Always,” Hinata said, leaning over, eyes fixed hungrily on the glowing screen of Atsumu’s cell phone. “Say, Atsumu, is Osamu still selling those cod ones? I want to get them for Kageyama and myself.”

“You have his number,” Atsumu said. “Text him yourself.”

“Rude,” Hinata said, but he pulled out his phone all the same. 

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Oikawa pushed open the door to his apartment, dropping his bags beside the doorway and kicking off his shoes. The sound of clanking utensils greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen.

Iwaizumi stood at the stove, humming as he held a spatula over a steaming pot. Oikawa launched himself at him with a shriek, tackling his waist and almost knocking Iwaizumi face down into the pot of boiling bok choy. “Get away,” Oikawa hissed, flapping his hands angrily at Iwaizumi. “Don’t touch my stove, you monster!”

“I’m just cooking!” Iwaizumi protested, desperately trying to reach the handle of the pot in order to stop it from overflowing. “Let me go!”

“Nope. We both know that you absolutely cannot cook. You’re going to burn the apartment down, and then I’ll have nowhere to live!”

“That’s not my problem, idiot.” 

“Of course it’s your problem. You’re living here too! Besides, turn the stove off. I brought onigiri.”

Iwaizumi perked up. He shut off the stove, coming to peer into the big plastic container Oikawa had set on the table. “From Miya?” 

“Yup,” Oikawa confirmed. He wiped his clammy hands on his pants, remembering Atsumu’s insistent prodding that he “spill” his feelings tonight. 

Not tonight, he thought, watching Iwaizumi grab two plates and set them on the table, placing the plastic box of onigiri in the center proudly. It would be devastating if he says he hates me, and I don’t want to cry tonight. Plus, it should be a perfect confession.

“Oi,” Iwaizumi said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Why are you just standing there? Come eat.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him, sitting down across the table. He picked up one of the rice balls, blanching when he saw the paper note underneath it.  
_Good Luck._ It said.

Iwaizumi frowned down at it. “Good luck?” he asked, “For what?”

“Um, for our practice game next week,” Oikawa said, fidgeting with the slip of paper. The ink was mixing with his sweat and turning his fingertips a dusty grey. 

Iwaizumi took a bite of his onigiri slowly, clearly not convinced. “You don’t have any practice games next week. I know because you make me go to all of them.”

“It’s a new game,” Oikawa said quickly. “Hibarida-sensei just announced it today.”

“I was at your practice today, remember?”

The scrap of paper was basically a pulpy mess. He set it down on the table gingerly, following it with his eyes.

Iwaizumi sighed, putting his half-eaten onigiri down. “What’s going on, Oikawa? You’re clearly keeping something from me. And from what I heard today, you’re busy thinking about other things. I think you should find whoever it is you like and let them know.” He grimaced. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but listen to Atsumu’s advice.”

Oikawa looked up at him. His eyes were earnest and wide, even though he was still scowling. 

_He really has no idea I like him,_ Oikawa thought. _I can’t let him get away from me._

Oikawa sighed, pushing his chair away from the table. He leaned forward, hands spread in front of him. Iwaizumi glanced up curiously. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” Oikawa muttered. Then, out loud, he announced. “I like you a lot, Iwaizumi.” 

Since he was staring Iwaizumi dead in the eyes, Oikawa got the perfect chance to watch everything unfold. Iwaizumi kept staring at him, eyes screaming _What. The. Fuck._ He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and shut it again. Oikawa squeezed his eyes closed, unwilling to watch his entire decades-long friendship with Iwaizumi unravel with a few words.

 _I did it._ He thought, feeling his face turn red. _Oh god, this is so not going well. Why isn’t he saying anything? I knew it. He hates me. Gah, why did I listen to Atsumu!_

A hand whacked the back of his head, and Oikawa cried out, eyes flying open. Iwaizumi was leaning over the table, face just as beet red as Oikawa’s. He coughed awkwardly, eyes fixed on Oikawa. 

“I like you too, dumbass.”

His eyes dropped down to Oikawa’s mouth. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he breathed.

“Okay,” Oikawa said quietly. His brain swam. Iwaizumi… liked him back. 

Iwaizumi dipped his head down, and his lips met Oikawa’s. Oikawa sighed into it, smiling slightly, one hand coming up to curl around the back of Iwaizumi’s neck.

As his eyes slipped shut into bliss, Oikawa thought, To whoever made this possible, to whatever deity that’s watching over me, heck, even to Atsumu and Tobio-chan and all those annoying idiots, truly, thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) One more chap to go!


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY sooo sorry it's been a while :) I'm going to be honest, we kind of forgot this existed... BUT we're back now! :) Also, we apologize in advance. I'm not on Twitter often, so I'm really not sure how it looks.

_2 Years Later_

Asagami Chiyo cheered as Ushijima slammed the ball down on the court, clapping with her family. On the other side of the net, the orange haired number #21 grumbled loudly, waving his arms and generally resembling an oversized bright chicken. 

The members of the Asagami family were proud supporters of the Schweiden Adlers. In fact, Chiyo’s older brother, Hoseki, was completely obsessed with them. Chiyo? Well, Chiyo was mostly just there for the gossip. And of course, the extremely hot players.

As she watched, the coach motioned for the brown haired one, Ushijima, to get off the court. Number #17 took his place, stepping to the back to serve.

Hoseki leaned forward, intrigued. “They’re trying the two-setter strategy. I wonder how this is going to turn out.”

“Is #20 dating anyone?” Chiyo’s sister asked, eyes fixed intently on Kageyama’s back as he high fived Oikawa. 

Chiyo sat up. Finally a question she could answer. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “He’s dating #21 on the other team. The one with orange hair.”

Asemi sighed. “Bummer. He’s really cute.”

Chiyo couldn’t help but agree. In fact, most of the volleyball players on both sides were unusually attractive.

“Kageyama Tobio, #20. He’s 23, so too old for you Asemi. You’re like, 16.” Hoseki snorted as a pillow went flying at his face, ducking smoothly underneath it. “#21 on the other side is Hinata Shoyo. They played in the Olympics two years ago. Remember, the one we watched?”

At both Chiyo and Asemi’s blank looks, Hoseki sighed. “Anyway, Japan won gold that year.”

“So they’re good, then?” Chiyo asked.

Hoseki nodded. “Some of the best. Both the Schweiden Adlers and the MSBY Black Jackals are stacked. The Jackals have Hinata Shoyo, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu, and Bokuto Koutarou. On the other hand, the Adlers have Hoshiumi…”

Chiyo tuned him out, sharing the look she and Asemi always wore whenever Hoseki went off on another one of his volleyball tangents. 

Something on the screen caught Chiyo’s eye, and she pointed at one of the players. #17 was tall, and his brown hair stuck out in floppy tufts. “Who’s that?” She asked Hoseki.

“That’s Oikawa Tooru. He’s new to the Adlers this year, and he’s a setter. Apparently, he and Kageyama knew each other back in junior high. He played in the Olympics, too” 

“He’s married?” Chiyo remarked, watching a small golden ring dangle on a string around his neck. The ring seemed to float in the air as Oikawa served the ball, against the grasp of gravity. It fell back against his chest as he landed, a perfect service ace spinning off Miya’s arms and ricocheting into the crowd. 

“What?” Hoseki said. “No, he’s not. And I would know. Half of the girls in my chemistry lecture are obsessed with him. Like, keeping track of his every move obsessed.”

“There’s a ring around his neck,” Asemi said, nodding towards the screen, her eyes fixed on what had caught Chiyo’s attention moments before.

Hoseki stared at the screen. “Huh,” he said. “I guess he married his boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Chiyo asked. 

“Yeah,” Hoseki said. “Oikawa’s dating the Olympic team’s athletic trainer. I didn’t know they got married, though.”

“I don’t think anyone knows, actually,” Asemi chortled from where she was clearly scrolling through social media. “I’m going through their twitter pages, and there’s no mention of their wedding anywhere.”

Chiyo pulled out her own phone, bringing up Oikawa Tooru’s official twitter page with a few swipes of her fingers. Sure enough there was nothing there. The last post was a clearly edited picture of a man with spiky hair wearing a giant donut cutout and standing next to a dozen pigeons. The photo was accompanied by the text “Iwa-chan meets his own species”. 

“That’s his boyfriend,” Hoseki said, leaning over Chiyo’s shoulder to see.

“Seems kind of rude,” she grumbled. Chiyo opened a new tweet and typed quickly, entering the message and tagging both Oikawa and his boyfriend a dozen times each. She clicked _Tweet_.

Asemi’s phone beeped and she looked up, eyebrows raised. “Really?” she said, reading aloud. “Dear Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime. Did you get engaged without telling us?”

Chiyo shrugged. “I’m a gossip by nature.”

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Two hours later, after the Adlers had won the game, Chiyo opened her phone to 36 thousand retweets, 108 thousand likes, and 24 thousand shares. Someone had tagged her three thousand times under one of Oikawa Tooru’s new tweets. She clicked on it.

 **@OikawaTooru**  
_@ChiyoAsagami23_ What do you think?

Oikawa had tagged her, and attached a picture file. She opened it. A photo of Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, smiling at the camera, stared back at her. Both of them held their hands out in front of them, proudly displaying two shining gold rings. 

Chiyo smiled. Underneath the tweet, she replied simply,

 **@ChiyoAsagami23**  
_@OikawaTooru_ You look cute together. Congratulations.

 _fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And.. this is the end of our first fic. Btw, there's two people running this account, if you couldn't tell. :) If you're reading this, I hope you like it and thanks! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Stay tuned for the next few chaps! :)


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